I had a surprise when I got up that morning. I found a tick on my leg! Promptly forgetting everything I learned in Boy Scouts about tick removal, I pulled it off. Fortunately, there were no ill effects.
I mentioned earlier that Hector and Malena actually live in San Juan Teotihuacan, a small town on the outskirts of Mexico City:
After breakfast - which we ate at home, for once - we drove to Teotihucan. We pulled up in front of Hector and Malena's house:
Casa Olivera Norte
...on Calle Canterroco:
...where we met Chavela (Isabela), Malena's sister, who lives next door:
...and Chachis:
The house has a lovely courtyard:
...filled with Malena's collection of birds:
Malena also has an impressive collection of refrigerator magnets:
I think she's going to need to get another refrigerator before much longer.
Of course, the primary attraction in Teotihuacan is the pyramids (w) , and that's where we spent most of the day ("we" being me, Terry and Hector - Malena stayed home with Chavela and North). Teotihuacan is an Aztec name, meaning "City Of The Gods." However, the pyramids are actually pre-Aztec - in fact, they were already in ruins when the Aztecs arrived. The Teotihuacan pyramids are the tallest in Mexico, and among the tallest in Latin America.
We met our guide, Francisco:
...a very knowledgeable man who was an excellent guide. He spoke some English, but not too much, so Terry and Hector, aka Grinnell's interpreting staff, were on duty again.
According to Francisco, the pyramids as we see them today are largely reconstructions, but very faithful reconstructions, using as much of the original materials as possible. He also told us that only about 8% percent of the site has been excavated. In other words, however much you see, there's a lot more that you don't see!
At Teotihuacan, of course, the pyramids are the main attraction. But there are other ruins there, as well, and we started by exploring some of them. I took this picture as we were walking in from the parking lot:
We went in and out of a number of rooms and patios. Here are some of them:
Patio de los Jaguares
.JPG)
A side room, which Francisco told us was a habitation
A sunken patio
Patio de Quetzalcoatl
(w)
Closeup of roof beams in one room
We also saw numerous frescoes, including:
A jaguar fresco
A sign describing the jaguar fresco
A parakeet fresco
Use your imagination. The parakeet is green, and the pointed end at the right is its beak.
A puma fresco
Francisco also pointed out this architectural detail:
Apparently, the four petal flower is a commonly recurring architectural theme.
As we came out into the Plaza de la Luna:
...heading for the pyramids, we were intercepted by this gentleman:
...who introduced himself as Tony. He informed us that Don Francisco was one of the best guides in the business - second only to himself. He chatted with us for a while, and gave us some interesting information about the site. He said that the best time to see it is at about 4:00 in the morning, when mist rises from the ground, and you can almost feel that you're going back in time to when the pyramids were built. Of course, the grounds are closed at that time of night, so tourists never get to see that.
Hector asked if it was true that human sacrifice was practiced there, and Tony assured us that they've found remains of over 1,000 human sacrifices. Creepy.
And so we moved on to the pyramids themselves, beginning with Pryamide de la Luna (Pyramid of the Moon) (w) , so named, we were told, because it was once painted white.
As you can see from the second picture, you're allowed to climb the pyramid, but only to the first landing, about halfway up. So up we went. Here are some pictures I took looking down from the top:
The broad avenue extending south from the Pyramide de la Luna is called Calzado de los Muertos (Avenue of the Dead), because the smaller structures lining it were once thought to be tombs, although in fact, they're platforms that used to be topped with temples. And the large pyramid partway down the avenue is Pyramide del Sol, the Pyramid of the Sun (w) - so named, we were told, because it was once painted red.
Francisco also told us that Pyramide de la Luna was dedicated to the goddess Chalchiutlicue (chal-chi-CUIT-le), mother of the gods, and goddess of fertility and rain. After we came down from the pyramid, as we were walking south along the Avenue of the Dead, we came upon this fragment of a statue of Chalchiutlicue:
Again, use your imagination. That curved line isn't her teeth, it's a necklace.
Farther down the avenue, we came to the Pyramide del Sol:
And here's another picture of the pyramid, with some tourists blocking the view:
So of course, we climbed this one, too. And this one lets you get all the way to the top. There are stairs most of the way up, but the stairs stop a little short of the top, and you have to climb up a short slope of rocks to get all the way to the top. Terry elected to stop where the stairs stopped, leaving me and Hector and Francisco to go the rest of the way.
In recent years, these pyramids have become very popular with New Age types. Francisco told us that at the Vernal Equinox, the place gets crazy. At the very tip of the pyramid, there's a nail driven into the rock, marking the exact center of the pyramid. The story is that if you touch the nail, you draw on the power of the pyramid and gain energy. So of course, all of the tourists who get to the top take pictures of each other touching the nail. So of course...
And of course, I didn't feel a thing. These sorts of things never seem to work for us skeptics.
Here's a picture of the view from the top:
Well, if climbing the Pyramide del Sol was an adventure, getting back down was an adventure and a half... or maybe even seven-eighths. The stairs are rough and uneven. And narrow. And in places, very steep. And in some places, there's no rail to hold on to. At times, it's like climbing down a ladder facing forward.
And I'm afraid of heights. Not a gut-wrenching, paralyzing phobia - if it was that bad, I'd have never made it to the top in the first place. But Lord, my heart was in my mouth as I came down those steps. Slowly. One at a time. To add to the fun, Terry was behind me, holding on to my shoulders. I told her, "Terry, whatever you do - DON'T LEAN FORWARD!"
Well, we made it to the bottom alive. It's the kind of thing that, while you're doing it, you're asking yourself why you're doing it, but once you've done it, you feel good about yourself for having done it.
Francisco told us that there are caves and tunnels under the pyramid. They're closed to tourists, of course. I took this picture of the cave entrance:
...and right above it, an entrance into the interior of the pyramid:
I understand why they can't let tourists in there. But I still wish they would.
Francisco told us one more interesting piece of information. There have been ruins found in the state of Georgia and Louisiana that somewhat resemble the ruins of Teotihuacan. It's thought that after Teotihuacan fell, some of the inhabitants may have migrated to the southeastern U.S. Fascinating, if true. Here's a website with more information.
After we left the pyramids, we went back to the house and socialized for a while. Manela and Chavela had bought a snack for us - quesadillas de sesos (they called them quesadillas, but they didn't have any cheese, and they looked more like tacos to me). Anyway, sesos are... brains. Well, I didn't think it was polite to refuse, so I ate one. To my surprise - and relief - it actually wasn't bad... as long as I didn't let myself think too much about what I was eating. I expected it to have a mushy, unpleasant texture, but in fact, it had about the same texture as ground turkey. They were pretty greasy, though.
Later, we went to dinner at a local restaurant, Mi Ranchito. This was very rural. When I went to use the restroom, not only did I have to use the "flush with a pail of water" trick I described earlier, but there was no sink to wash my hands. There was a jug of water and a bottle of liquid soap sitting on a stone wall a few hundred feet away.
The food was good, though. I had conejo adobado - rabbit in a spicy sauce. And we were entertained by a trio of musicians:
We have a couple of albums at home by a group from Paraguay called Los Fabulosos Tres Paraguayos. These fellows reminded me of that group, so I dubbed them Los Fabulosos Tres Mexicanos. I requested a song called Gritenme, Piedras del Campo (Scream To Me, Stones Of The Field), that we have on two of our albums - once by the aforementioned Tres Paraguayos, and once by Linda Ronstadt. They seemed surprised that I knew the song, and was able to sing along on the chorus. Hector certainly was.
After dinner, we drove to another restaurant - not for another meal, but just to look at the place. It's called La Gruta, which means the grotto, or cave. At first, it just looks like a cave:
...but when you get closer, you discover that there are people down there! The whole restaurant is inside the cave!
We said our goodbyes, and drove back to the city. Just before we left town, I took this picture of a local church:
When we got back to town, before going back to the apartment, we stopped off at a book and record store called, of all things, Libreria Gandhi. It's sort of like a Mexican Borders. Terry wanted to find some recordings of corridos (w) , a popular style of Mexican ballad, generally based on historical themes. We found two CDs. One was called Cantares de la Revolucíon (Songs of the Revolution), and contained songs from the time of the Mexican Revolution (w) .
The other was called ¡Viva Cárdenas, Muchachos!, and contained songs in honor of Lázaro Cárdenas (w) , one of Mexico's most popular presidents. He was the one who kicked out the foreign oil companies and nationalized the Mexican oil industry in 1938. There's a major thoroughfare in Mexico City named for him - it's the road we usually took from Hector and Malena's apartment into the downtown area - and at one point along the road, there's a huge statue of Sr. Cárdenas. Unfortunately, I never got a picture of it.
While I was looking at these CDs, the bright pink cover of another one caught my eye. It was called México A Capella, by a five person group called Voz En Punto. Terry and I both love a capella singing, so I bought it on a whim, and I'm glad I did. The singing is magnificent.